Fly Like A Bird
by Arlaxxer
Summary: She was his little princess in the tower, but to her, he was not the knight cladded in golden armour who would save her and take her to Paris. To her, he was the road block between her and the skies that stretched infinitely across the world. (AU, Spoilers (I guess?)).


Songbird had already left.

He was never at the tower for more than an hour, and that was fine considering Elizabeth saw him as her warden. Whenever he was here, she would hide in her bedroom where he wouldn't be able to be in because of his enormous mechanical body. And she would smirk when she heard his confused screeches as he searched for her, and snicker when he would leave, but when he was gone, Elizabeth could not help to think that she (kind of) missed him.

All things considered, he was her friend. He was her only friend; he brought her books, dolls, food, clothes. He was like her father, but she knew he was made of gear and wires rather than meat and blood. She was his little princess in the tower, but to her, he was not the knight cladded in golden armour who would save her and take her to Paris. To her, he was the road block between her and the skies that stretched infinitely across the world.

Every night, Elizabeth would lay in her bed and and try to imagine what her knight would look like, and what she would do once she had escaped Songbird's cold, metallic claws. The first thing she would do would be to find her parents (and possibly siblings) and then take them to Paris, they would live there together and she would get the time with her parents she never got _as_ a child.

"But what if your parents are dead?"

A voice inside Elizabeth's mind cooed and it clogged her mind, making all her other thoughts fly away with the flick of a finger. What if she didn't have a family? What if Heaven did not exist and she would never get to meet them? The amount of questions that Elizabeth had increased tenfold at the unanswerable question she had asked. She didn't care if her parents were evil, or poor, or anything else. There were only two questions she had for them: "Why did you leave me?" and "Do you still love me?", and she never considered that she might never get to ask those two questions.

Songbird's loud screech resounded from outside.

Elizabeth began humming loudly as an attempt to block her mind from thinking that her parents were (most likely) dead.

_They're dead._

She hummed louder.

_Dead, dead, dead. All of them dead._

She put her hands on her ears as if someone was talking next to her.

_Your mother died giving birth to you._

Sweat droplets trickled off her skin.

_Your father sold you to an unknown man and drank himself to oblivion after you killed the love of his life._

She was about to scream.

_Your father blamed it all on you before jumping off tower._

Screaming would alarm Songbird.

_YOU KILLED HER YOU KILLED HER YOU KILLED HER YOU KILLED HER YOU KILLED HER YOU KILLED HER YOU KILLED HER YOU KILLED HER YOU KILLED HER _

"STOP IT!" Her scream rung throughout the whole tower. The statue next to her bed suddenly came to life and sung the damned tones that would alert her warden. Songbird's howl reverbareted loudly and Elizabeth hid her face under her pillow in a futile attempt to stay hidden from his eerie yellow stare, but he would find her, he always did.

A kind of hide and seek, you could call it.

But something was off this time, he looked for her in a mere couple of seconds and then moved towards the library. Carefully, Elizabeth snuck out of her bed and tiptoed towards the library. Songbird stood there with someone in his hands, a man with brown hair whom had apparently fallen asleep in Songbird's grip. He snorted loudly as Songbird carefully dropped him on the floor before leaving the tower once again to patrol the skies for anyone or anything that threatened Elizabeth's existence.

She stared at the asleep man from a distance for a few minutes before carefully moving towards him. She had to cover her mouth once she saw why he was "asleep". Blood flowed from a gigantic wound in his side, it looked as if someone had used a drill to cut him open and then leaving it wide open to rot. Was this what Songbird did whenever he was outside? He killed (seemingly) innocent people? Her hatred for him only grew ever so stronger, but she had to direct her attention to the man infront of her.

She fell on her knees and lowered her head to his, she could hear his quiet breathing. Her hand found its way to his chest to feel if his heart was still beating, and she calmed when she could feel his heart beating through his skin and clothes. She ripped a part of her long, blue skirt off and used it to bandage his wound. She spent some time staring at his face, it looked hardened (and dirty) as if he was the kind of guy to live on the edge. He had several cuts and scares on his wound, but none too terribly visible. When he breathed, it smelled of old whiskey and tobacco. He had emerald green eyes that almost mesmerized Elizabeth when she opened his eyelids with her slender fingers.

She dragged him into her room and put him in her bed, she never knew why she was this kind to a stranger. Maybe it was because this man could be a new friend to her? Another human to talk to, someone that could respond to her with words rather than loud annoying, mechanical noises. Someone to dance with, someone to discuss book things with, someone to play games with.

She couldn't wait for him to wake up, so she had already begun searching his pockets for clues as to who he was.

There was particulary one thing that interested Elizabeth. There was a picture in his vest's pocket. She slowly slid it out, careful not to wake him, and stared at it. It was a picture of her? She rubbed her eyes and glanced at it again, her eyes were not betraying her, it was her. Her name was written on it too, or her name was written there but someone had rubbed it to the point where it was almost unreadable. Under her name, another girl's name was written; "Anna."

She turned it around, only to see that there was a letter on the back.

_Anna-_

_I have written this letter in hope that should I never find you, you would by chance find this letter._

_I want you to know that I have always cared for you, and regretted losing you every second of my life. I have dedicated my life to searching for you ever since I lost you, and I will only give up should a bullet penetrate my skull. _

_I want you to know that wherever you are, I am proud of you, whatever you're doing, I'm proud of you. And I am sure that if your mother was still alive, she would be proud of you as well._

_I am ever so sorry that you might never meet me, but stay strong, I could tell right from your birth that you are a fighter, just like your mother. She would want you to stay strong as well, she would tell you to never give up and stay bright-hearted (Because she and I know you are that)._

_I will always carry this letter to you in my pocket in hope that you will find it and forgive me._

_Your ever-loving father_  
_ Booker DeWitt._

__The last few words almost made Elizabeth faint.

"Anna DeWitt." She let the name roll around in her mouth for a long time.


End file.
